The low-point was arriving in California. That is when LAX threw down
the gauntlet.

Lavinia slept three hours during the first 14 hour leg- which meant no sleep
for Momma. The exhausted baby finally fell asleep on me, in her carrier, when
we were waiting in line for US customs.

I couldn't believe it. No crib, no comforter, no white noise and not on
schedule. My perfectly crafted routine- abandoned. This was the first time I
realized that like any human, if she were tired enough, Lavinia would
eventually crash.

This may seem like common sense to most people. I was far too tired for common
sense.

At customs I got grilled for not having a letter of permission from ‘the
father’ to prove I’m not kidnapping my own child.

Then my favorite part- retrieving our checked luggage in order to immediately
re-check it for the next leg. A nice man offered to help me with my suitcase. I
had him grab the same bag and let it go three times before I realized that it
actually was MY bag. I was so fuzzy I forgot what my own suitcase looked like.

While awkwardly leaning backward to avoid disturbing Lavinia’s sleepy head, I
had to drag my large checked-bag in one hand and carry-on with diaper bag in
the other...up a long ramp. My lip started quivering and eyes welled with
tears. I tried to stop the abusive thoughts.

Who is this mother I had become? She was not at all what I imagined. She was
nervous, stressed, and she lived and breathed according to a schedule. She
didn’t trust herself or her instincts. And worst of all- she constantly berated
her efforts with negative and critical thoughts. Not exactly a role model.

I must have been a sight because an airport staff member saw me and offered to
help me with my bags. I gratefully accepted.

Lavinia woke up just as we were going through security a second time and we
both made it to our connecting gate. My mother met us there and flew with us to
Toronto. She held her granddaughter while I surrendered to a few hours of sweet
sleep.

And we all survived.

This was just another step in the process of letting go. Letting go of the illusion of control.

The low-point was arriving in California. That is when LAX threw down
the gauntlet.

Lavinia slept three hours during the first 14 hour leg- which meant no sleep
for Momma. The exhausted baby finally fell asleep on me, in her carrier, when
we were waiting in line for US customs.

I couldn't believe it. No crib, no comforter, no white noise and not on
schedule. My perfectly crafted routine- abandoned. This was the first time I
realized that like any human, if she were tired enough, Lavinia would
eventually crash.

This may seem like common sense to most people. I was far too tired for common
sense.

At customs I got grilled for not having a letter of permission from ‘the
father’ to prove I’m not kidnapping my own child.

Then my favorite part- retrieving our checked luggage in order to immediately
re-check it for the next leg. A nice man offered to help me with my suitcase. I
had him grab the same bag and let it go three times before I realized that it
actually was MY bag. I was so fuzzy I forgot what my own suitcase looked like.

While awkwardly leaning backward to avoid disturbing Lavinia’s sleepy head, I
had to drag my large checked-bag in one hand and carry-on with diaper bag in
the other...up a long ramp. My lip started quivering and eyes welled with
tears. I tried to stop the abusive thoughts.

Who is this mother I had become? She was not at all what I imagined. She was
nervous, stressed, and she lived and breathed according to a schedule. She
didn’t trust herself or her instincts. And worst of all- she constantly berated
her efforts with negative and critical thoughts. Not exactly a role model.

I must have been a sight because an airport staff member saw me and offered to
help me with my bags. I gratefully accepted.

Lavinia woke up just as we were going through security a second time and we
both made it to our connecting gate. My mother met us there and flew with us to
Toronto. She held her granddaughter while I surrendered to a few hours of sweet
sleep.

And we all survived.

This was just another step in the process of letting go. Letting go of the illusion of control.